What Happens In Elizabethville
by paperstorm
Summary: Part of my Deleted Scenes series. The tag for Sin City, 3x4. Wincest.


**Part of my Deleted Scenes series. Full list of fics in reading order available on my profile page. They will make more sense if read in order. :)**

* * *

Sam thinks he might hate Ruby. Every time he sees her he's left with this horrible, hollow feeling in his gut, like someone just sucker-punched him. Every single instinct he has except for one is screaming at him not to trust her. He knows demons lie, and manipulate, and play games, all to get whatever it is that they want. He knows she's probably not telling him the truth; that probably every word out of her mouth is dripping in deceit. But the one instinct that keeps him from just shooting her with the Colt is the one that can't help clinging desperately to whatever gives him hope for Dean. Sam can't lose his brother. He just can't; simple as that. So if she can help him save Dean, Sam can't turn her away. He has to take the chance because he has to save Dean. It doesn't really matter if she's lying anyway, because if Sam can't keep Dean alive, then he doesn't want to be alive either.

Bobby and Dean are laughing as they walk through the door, something about another prostitute who approached Dean outside the motel.

"I think I counted four teeth," Dean chuckles, and Bobby smiles and shakes his head.

"Well, there's the one silver lining about lookin' like an old catcher's mitt. The crazies usually leave me alone."

Dean laughs again, bright and happy, his head tossing back for a moment and his eyes crinkling around the edges. He claps Sam on the shoulder as he walks past him. "Sammy here knows all about being the ugly duckling. You two could start a club."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Thanks, Dean." He looks over at Bobby and adds, "Bobby, you saved our asses, showing up with that gun."

Bobby shrugs. "Yeah, well. It's what I do. Bobby Singer, ass-saver."

Dean snorts. "You should get business cards. So how did you manage to rig up more magic bullets, anyway?"

Bobby pauses, glancing warily at Sam and pursing his lips for a moment before he answers. "You're not gonna like it."

Dean's eyes narrow. "Not gonna like what?"

Bobby nods in Sam's direction. "That lady demon helped me."

Dean stares at him. Then he looks sharply over at Sam, then back to Bobby, then back to Sam one more time. "Ruby? You're still in contact with that Hell-skank? I told you not to trust her!"

"Yeah, I know you did."

"So?" Dean asks angrily.

"So I don't always do everything you tell me to!" Sam returns. "I'm a grown up, Dean, I'm capable of making my own choices."

"Why did _you_ listen to her?" Dean shoots at Bobby, and Bobby fixes him with a hard look.

"Because she showed me how to make the bullets that saved your bacon last night. I was with her all day, she never even tried to lay a hand on me. I know it's crazy, and she makes my skin crawl just as much as yours, Dean, but … I don't know. Maybe she really does want to help. She _did_ help."

"I don't believe this," Dean mutters, turning away and rubbing his hands over his face.

Sam glowers at the back of Dean's head, clenching his jaw as his blood runs hot in his veins. Sometimes he thinks Dean is stubborn just for the sake of being stubborn.

"Alright. This is clearly a sore spot, so I'm gonna head out," Bobby says slowly. "Give you two a chance to work out whatever's causin' all this trouble in paradise. I'll be makin' more bullets if anybody needs me."

Sam nods at him, managing a small smile, and Dean kind of waves at him without turning around. Bobby nods back at Sam and leaves.

"She's had plenty of chances to kill all three of us if that's what she wanted, Dean," Sam points out quietly. "Clearly it isn't."

Dean squints at him over his shoulder, a look on his face that's caught somewhere between confusion and anger. "What the fuck, Sam? You sweet on this broad or somethin'? 'Cause I gotta tell you, for someone who's all gung-ho to start up the local chapter of People for the Ethical Treatment of Demon Whores, you were pretty quick to pop a cap in those two last night."

"You think I _liked_ doing that?" Sam cries. "I know there were people in there! I feel like shit about it! But what did you want me to do? It was us or them, like it always is!"

"Last time I checked, exorcizing still works. You didn't have to kill them. And I don't know about the guy, but the demon inside Casey wasn't interested in hurting us."

"Did she tell you that?" Sam asks incredulously.

"More or less."

He shakes his head in annoyance and disbelief, his blood boiling again. "So you two had a nice little chat while you were stuck down there, did you? And the fact that demons _lie_ never crossed your mind?"

"Maybe she wasn't lying."

"Yeah, and maybe she was! She was a demon, Dean! You're the one who's always saying there aren't gray areas when it comes to the things we hunt! When you found out about Ruby you practically bit my head off! You're _still_ biting my head off! So what, you can have a little demon friend but I can't?"

"I go by my instincts, Sam. Okay? I can't explain it, but there was something about her. Yeah, we did talk. We had nothing else to do while we were waiting for your ass to show up and dig me out. I asked her about Yellow-Eyes, and about Hell. She was straight with me. My gut said I could trust her. I don't trust Ruby."

"You haven't _met_ Ruby. This is just your stupid big brother crap again. You're going on the assumption that I'm gonna mess up and make a bad decision before you've even given me the chance to make it. Stupid little Sammy, can't do anything for himself."

"That's not what it is."

"Bullshit. Why did you even go with her, anyway, huh? Plannin' on scorin' a little on the side again?"

"No," Dean says loudly.

"You sure?"

"C'mon, Sam. Of course not. I went with her 'cause I'd already figured out what she was! She had a date with Ritchie, and he disappeared before he could go on it. I knew something was up with that, I mean did you _see_ her? What guy in their right mind would stand that up? You'd have to be crazy. Or … y'know. Fucking your little brother," Dean adds with a reluctant grin, and Sam still wants to be mad at him but the feeling dissolves a little.

He sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his face in his hands. He does know Dean's probably right about Ruby. But he still has to give her a chance. If she can help Dean it'll be worth it, even if she does end up screwing them over like she almost certainly will. It doesn't seem like he's going to be able to convince Dean it's a good idea, though, so it looks like that'll just be one more bullet on their list of things to argue about.

Dean sits beside him and bumps Sam's shoulder with his own. "Y'know, if I wasn't such a fuckin' stud, I'd be embarrassed that you had to come rescue me."

Sam smiles a little, and does his best Dean impression as he says, "Just lookin' out for m'little brother."

Dean snorts again. "That's supposed to be me? You sound like Sylvester Stalone."

"I thought it was pretty good."

"You thought wrong."

Sam chuckles. Part of him wants to push the subject of Ruby again, but he knows they'd just end up yelling at each other so, for now, he drops it. "What did that demon say to you? I mean, to get _you_ to actually listen, it must'a been something pretty good."

Dean shrugs. "Doesn't matter."

"Tell me," Sam insists.

"She …" Dean sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "She said she didn't think the deal I made was stupid. She's the first person to … well. She wasn't a person, I guess. But she's the first … I don't know, _whatever_, who didn't think I was an idiot to make the deal."

Sam frowns and shakes his head. "I don't think you're an idiot."

"You wish I hadn't done it."

"Yeah, because I _love _you. Because it makes me sick to think about living without you. Not because I think it was stupid."

Dean nods, but he doesn't completely look like he believes Sam about that.

"It's okay to be scared, you know," Sam says softly, and then instantly wishes he hadn't when Dean rolls his eyes and makes an irritated sound in his throat. "Sorry. I'll shut up."

"I've heard that one before," Dean mutters. He gets up off the bed and starts to head for where his bag is laying open on a chair with half its contents spilled out, but then he stops. He turns around, and then leans down and kisses Sam, cupping Sam's face in his hands.

Sam curls his fingers around the back of Dean's neck and kisses him back, no tongue or teeth or sense of urgency, but just nice, soft brushes of his lips against Dean's that say more than Dean ever could or will out loud. Somehow, even when the ground between them is a little unsteady, everything seems to reset back to normal whenever Dean kisses him. It makes Sam feel like he's back where he belongs. Sam wraps his arm all the way around Dean's neck and lies back onto the bed, pulling Dean with him. Dean gets his knees up onto the mattress, planting a hand on either side of Sam's head and kissing him deeper. He licks at Sam's lips, and Sam parts them and Dean dips his tongue into Sam's mouth. Sam sucks on it, while he slides one hand down and pushes it up under Dean's shirt to feel his skin. Dean swirls his tongue around Sam's and then goes back to brushing their lips together. Then he moves one leg to the space in between Sam's and pushes the top of his knee up against Sam's crotch.

Sam sighs contentedly at the contact, and says, "Why are we always either fighting or fucking?"

Dean grins against Sam's mouth and presses his knee even more into Sam's quickly filling erection. "'Cause we're awesome. I owe you a blow-job."

Sam frowns a little. "You do?"

"For the fun we had in the Impala the other day, waiting for that friggin' long train."

Sam smiles and laughs a little. "I forgot about that."

"Clearly it was better for me than it was for you."

"Well obviously. It's not good to keep score, you know," Sam says, between tugging on Dean's bottom lip with his teeth and rocking his hips up, eager for more pressure on his cock.

"Says who, Oprah?"

Sam laughs again. "I wouldn't know. But I kinda doubt she spends a lotta time talking about giving head."

"'Cause Gail doesn't have a dick," Dean finishes, and Sam frowns again.

"Who's Gail?"

Dean shakes his head. "Never mind."

He dips his head down, nosing under Sam's jaw and along his neck, and then sinking his teeth into the muscle and sinew of Sam's shoulder and Sam sort of gasps and groans at the same time, little pinpricks of pain mixing in with pleasure and lighting him up inside.

"Kinky bitch," Dean murmurs, but somehow it sounds like _I love you_.

He starts undoing the buttons on Sam's shirt, kissing the inches of skin as they're exposed, and Sam's warm and happy and completely looking forward to whatever Dean's got planned because he really, _really _likes it when Dean sucks his cock. And then his phone rings, and it's maybe the biggest buzzkill of all time. Whoever's on the other end of the call is going to pull them away from this. Sam doesn't know how he knows, but he does.

"Don't answer it," Dean says, slowly rubbing the top of his thigh against the bulge in Sam's pants, and Sam shivers in arousal even as he reaches into his pocket.

"I have to. It's probably a case."

"You don't want me to suck this, all you gotta do is say so." Dean reaches down and squeezes Sam's erection through his jeans, and Sam's body erupts in warm, tingly pleasure again, but he sort of hates Dean at the same time.

Sam groans and shoves him off. "Saving people. Hunting things. The family business," he mutters in annoyance, sitting up and answering the phone.

"Don't mean to interrupt couples' therapy," Bobby's voice says reluctantly, and Sam grimaces at the fact that Bobby doesn't know how accurate that description is, "but I got another one."

"That was fast," Sam says, running a shaky hand through his hair and exhaling deeply.

"Happens sometimes. You two good to go?"

"Yeah. We're fine."

"I'm turnin' around. I'll meet you outside in ten or so."

"Kay." Sam doesn't say goodbye before he hangs up. Dean raises an eyebrow, and Sam shakes his head.

"Damn," Dean mutters. "You'd think, like … the universe could give us a break every now and then."

Sam laughs sympathetically, for both of them. "Doesn't work that way, I guess."

Dean nods. He stands up and gives himself a little shake, probably thinking about baseball stats or American history or something equally boring like Sam is, trying to calm himself down before their sort-of-uncle gets back. Sam thinks about how bad it would've been if Bobby had just come back instead of calling first, and the significant amount of anxiety and dread that thought causes is enough to make his body okay with the fact that it's not getting sex anymore.

Dean goes for his bag again, but then like the first time, he stops, turns, and leans down to kiss Sam. When he lets their mouths fall apart, Dean leaves his forehead resting against Sam's for just a moment, pecking one more quick kiss to Sam's bottom lip before he stands up. He looks down at Sam, his eyes fond and soft, and he drags the pad of his thumb along the corner of Sam's mouth.

"C'mon. Let's get outta here."


End file.
